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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969002">it's cold out here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fricklefracklefloof/pseuds/fricklefracklefloof'>fricklefracklefloof</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, as in i cracked open crooked kingdom to find out what season it was, just a smidge, sort of like there was only one bed except damn it's cold out anyways i have one couch, tagging this makes this feel so stupid jesus, touch-starved wylan, very light angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:27:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fricklefracklefloof/pseuds/fricklefracklefloof</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Black Veil turns out to be absolutely freezing at night. It's been a while since Wylan truly felt warm.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's cold out here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i started this fic in like. march. for no reason other than i write things purely for my own self indulgence! then i abandoned it because it felt unbelievably stupid until a couple months later when i picked it up again and then didn't know where to go with it. so uh. about a week ago i just decided i liked this idea and i wanted to finally lay it to rest. so here you go wesper stannies enjoy your meal</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Black Veil was not a nice place for one to live in.</p><p> </p><p>Wylan despised it. Most of the crew did. It was far from the city, sparsely and uncomfortably furnished with the few things they’d brought, and still haunted by whispers of plague. But anywhere could be a place to live in as long as it was hidden, according to Kaz Brekker. Sure, they were living among graves of people that had died in a gruesome plague, but at least it was hidden.</p><p> </p><p>And worst of all, it was so damn <em> cold </em> at night.</p><p> </p><p>One might think that in the middle of a perfectly plentiful summer, the nights would have been merciful to them, still warm from the sweltering sun. But <em> not here. </em></p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the mist rolling in from the sea that enveloped the small island overnight, maybe it was the eerie bone-chilling feeling the graves surrounding them gave off, or maybe the ghosts just hated him, but Ghezen be merciful, whatever the reason, Wylan was just so sick of it. Sick of spending every night in this awful tomb curled up pathetically on a ratty couch he’d claimed, shivering helplessly and drawing his threadbare clothing closer to himself in a vain attempt to savor some sort of warmth. Because blankets were of course scarce here (and Wylan wasn’t about to fight anyone to get one) and none of the Dregs could light a fire or something, Wylan was just going to have to freeze every night.</p><p> </p><p>Wylan wouldn’t complain, because no one wanted to hear the little merchling whining about Barrel conditions, but he was sure everyone knew how pathetic he looked right now. The others could tolerate it. He obviously couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Jesper only teased him about it a little the first time he noticed.</p><p> </p><p>“Poor merchling, you look like you’re about to freeze to death,” he’d said, and Wylan couldn’t tell if he was mocking him or not, but he glared at him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m trying to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure doesn’t look like it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I said I was <em> trying. </em> You’re certainly not helping.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then here.”</p><p> </p><p>And Jesper had given him a blanket.</p><p> </p><p>Wylan couldn’t even compose himself enough to choke out a simple “thank you”, unsure of whether he felt like punching Jesper or hugging him. He didn’t like feeling pitied, especially not from someone like him. Wylan could help himself on his own. And yet, still… something in his heart twinged at the thought of Jesper doing something as simple as that for him, and Wylan found himself blushing, for the millionth time.</p><p> </p><p>The blanket was small, barely covering all of Wylan’s body (honestly, he couldn’t imagine Jesper using it anyway), and threadbare, and definitely had at least two holes, but he felt a little warmer.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Wylan had lost the blanket by the next day.</p><p> </p><p>Not that it made much of a difference, anyway. Though he liked the reminder of Jesper’s favor. It made him feel awfully warm inside.</p><p> </p><p>Later, Kaz had called them all together for a meeting to plan out their next job. Planning was probably the only part of criminal work that Wylan felt he really excelled in - there wasn’t anything to run or hide from, or tasks that required excessive displays of strength that he definitely did not possess, just discussion, the exchange of knowledge, and thinking, lots of thinking. Wylan could think. </p><p> </p><p>They were reviewing everyone’s roles in the job—Nina and Kaz had started to argue at some point—when Wylan started shivering. The cold wasn’t much of an issue once the sun came out and the morning fog had all cleared, but now that he was standing so still, listening to Nina and Kaz bicker, he was <em> freezing </em>again.</p><p> </p><p>Jesper glanced at him and Wylan stared defiantly back, not wanting to look helpless. Their staring contest lasted for about two seconds until Jesper stuck his tongue out at him and they both snickered softly.</p><p> </p><p>Then Jesper put his arm around him and Wylan could not think.</p><p> </p><p>He went absolutely still, though even like this Wylan could feel Jesper’s crackling energy next to him. He didn’t know how to <em> process </em> this. He probably looked like an idiot right there in front of everyone, but all Wylan could think about was how every cell of his body seemed to gravitate to this and how <em> warm </em>Jesper was and how he was just close enough to smell flowers and a hint of gunpowder and—</p><p> </p><p>“Wylan!”</p><p> </p><p>Both of their heads snapped up, and Wylan felt impossibly guilty for some odd reason. He and Jesper jumped apart, and he caught his expression—<em>was this okay?</em>—and Wylan didn’t know, but he liked it, even if it left his thoughts all jumbled and distracted and he struggled to form even a single sentence.</p><p> </p><p>“I was wondering what your progress on the weevil was,” Kaz said, his dark eyes weighing heavily on Wylan. “I heard you and Kuwei arguing about it earlier. I don’t care whatever method you two use, but I want it ready in time to make sure Van Eck’s sugar supply is completely demolished.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Wylan said quickly, then immediately regretted the last part. Kaz wasn’t his father. Everyone else was on more casual terms with him, but Wylan couldn’t help but revert back to old habits when he heard such a firm tone. <em> Stupid. </em></p><p> </p><p>Wylan didn’t register much of the rest of the conversation as the group continued planning. He kept trying to focus and then found his gaze wandering back to Jesper next to him, interrupting whatever productive train of thought he might have had. It was frustrating, and the sensible part of him wanted to pull away or stand somewhere else farther from Jesper, but the needy part of him said <em> no, we’re staying right here. </em></p><p> </p><p>Wylan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone was a little tense once the gang dispersed. Inej was still gone and Wylan could tell it was wearing on everyone, not just Kaz. He didn’t like when people argued. Still, Wylan found that he was embarrassingly disappointed when Jesper removed his arm from around him, patting him lightly on the shoulder before leaving Wylan with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>It was all he could think about for the rest of the afternoon.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Wylan didn’t think it was possible, but the next night somehow proved to be even colder than the last.</p><p> </p><p>Seriously, it was <em> summer. </em> But this horrible island seemed to disobey all laws of weather with its fog and dampness and creepy graves. Wylan tried to think of warm, sunny afternoons back at home as he lay shivering, clutching his chilled bones to salvage any kind of warmth. It was going to take forever for him to find feeling in his numb limbs by morning.</p><p> </p><p>“Saints. I’m gonna kill whoever decided to hoard the blankets.” </p><p> </p><p>Wylan lifted his head to see Jesper standing by the couch, arms wrapped around his thin frame in a hesitant way that looked almost comical.</p><p> </p><p>“I believe it was Nina,” Wylan replied, glancing over his side to find her and prove his point. She was nowhere to be found. Neither was Matthias.</p><p> </p><p>Jesper winced. No one could really be mad at her right now, not in her current state. “Ah, well, I suppose she needs it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>“Anyways,” Jesper said, eyes glancing at everything but Wylan. “I was gonna ask if you still had that blanket, but… well.”</p><p> </p><p>Exhausted, freezing, stressed and still recovering from a missed payment, it was no wonder everyone wasn’t feeling themselves lately. Hell, Wylan didn’t even <em> look </em>like himself. Still, he found it a little endearing seeing Jesper like this: fidgety, but not like his regular fidgety, a little more vulnerable. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, no. I lost it the moment I got up this morning, unfortunately,” Wylan lamented. “But thanks. For it, last night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” Jesper took a shuddering breath as he drew his arms in closer to himself. “Saints. It’s like the ghosts hate us here or something. You know, maybe Nina and Matthias had the right idea with the whole cuddling thing.”</p><p> </p><p>“I… <em> what?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Jesper said with one of those smiles, “it’s easier to stay warm when you’re close to another person.”</p><p> </p><p>Wylan knew that comment was meant to make him blush, but honestly he’d do anything to feel less cold at this point. And he wouldn’t admit it, but he still was thinking about Jesper’s touch and the feeling of his arm around him earlier that day. It <em> had </em>been warm.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Jesper blinked. “Oh. Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Wylan said. “Just—just as long as it’s not—you don’t mean—”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, of course not,” Jesper said quickly, almost uncharacteristically. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, um,” Jesper began. He hovered around the couch awkwardly before sitting down just inches apart from Wylan. “Just like…”</p><p> </p><p>It took them a few tries before they fit together in a semi-comfortable way. The couch was small, and Jesper’s legs jutted out the side, but it provided just barely enough room for the two of them.</p><p> </p><p>Wylan was so tense his limbs felt stiff, and not just because of the cold. Jesper wasn’t even touching him, aside from his back pressed to his as Wylan tried to shrink himself into the cushions. He’d <em> agreed </em> to this, and yet somehow Wylan couldn’t make himself loosen up.</p><p> </p><p>Still, just the feeling of another body next to him eased the trembling in Wylan’s bones just a bit, and he knew he’d warm up in time. It would make it easier for him to sleep, if he could just relax. But it had been a long time since he’d been close to anyone like this.</p><p> </p><p>Jesper hardly said anything, surprisingly. Wylan had expected at least one stupid joke or innuendo, but maybe he was just as desperate for warmth and sleep as he was.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to think about other things, something to calm his rapidly whirling mind. Equations he could recite. What he’d talk to Kuwei about tomorrow. The tune he’d been learning on his flute before he had to leave his father’s house. Back home, Wylan used to hum songs to himself when he was feeling particularly sleepless, some kind of lonely version of a lullaby, but he was pretty sure Jesper wouldn’t appreciate that.</p><p> </p><p>He settled for focusing on his breathing and Jesper’s next to him, growing deeper as Wylan heard him fall asleep, until he drifted off to sleep himself.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Wylan awoke… warm. And comfortable. He hadn’t slept so comfortably and restfully in a while, and for the first time since their arrival, he really <em> didn’t </em>want to get to get up, phasing in and out of consciousness as he snuggled deeper into the warmth that enveloped him.</p><p> </p><p>Until he realized where he was.</p><p> </p><p>Sometime in the middle of the night, Wylan and Jesper had both turned over and curled into each other, and Wylan was horrified to discover that he was <em> in Jesper’s arms, </em>head buried in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>And Wylan hated to admit it, but he felt safe just then, in the arms of someone else, listening to their breathing and drinking in the sweet scent of jurda flowers and gunpowder. It made him feel… cared for, something that had been for the most part unfamiliar to him for so long. He wanted to savor every second of the moment, because he didn’t know if he’d ever get anything like this again, and maybe Wylan didn’t want to go back to a time when no one cared about him enough to hold him.</p><p> </p><p>Soon the sun would come up, and Kaz would wake everyone up, and someone was going to walk in and see them cuddling and Wylan was going to have to make sure no one actually saw anything. But for now, Wylan was just content lying like this, perfectly positioned in that space within Jesper’s arms, breathing in time with him and listening to their hearts beat like percussion. And Wylan was finally satisfied. He didn’t feel cold anymore.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as always, this fic was beta read by the lovely alex @urlocalquisling! thank you very much alex your stupid comments are always appreciated. seasons are a social construct.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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